FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

It was mid-morning.

Petra's comm-badge chirruped. "What?" she muttered.

"Hello to you, too." It was Seldovia, up in Ops. "Reverie has docked. Airlock decompression and decontamination is underway. You ready to greet them?"

"I am. Me an' Herkimer. The commander an' ambassador, however, appear to be late," the rat remarked with clear annoyance.

Herkimer, biting his lip in that cute, mousey way, suggested, "Maybe, uh ... they lost track of time?"

"While they were fucking, you mean?"

"Well, they are rabbits ... "

"No excuse to be late." Petra crossed her arms. "We're livin' in a society, now ... "

"If you consider eight or nine officers on a big, abandoned station to be a society," the mouse countered. "Rules are gonna be a little lax, here. At least until we attract a population." He paused. "Maybe the computer circuits in their quarters are on the fritz? I know my alarm sounded ten minutes after it was supposed to."

"Mm ... "

"I never figured you'd be a stickler for such things."

"I'm not." The rat's turn to pause. "I just ... "

"She's interested in Reverie's captain. She wants to make a good impression," Seldovia said.

"Are you still here?" the rat replied, scowling. "And how do you know that?"

"When they asked for permission to dock, he inquired about you," the skunk explained in a light, playful tone. "Asked how you were doing. Easy enough to put two and two together."

Petra said nothing.

"Sounded cute, too!" Seldovia added.

"If he's a mouse, he must be," Herkimer claimed proudly.

"Heh. Well, obviously, but I just can't see Petra hooking up with a ... "

The rat slapped her badge, again, cutting the channel. "Eavesdropper."

"How did you meet Captain, um ... the Captain?" Herkimer asked, curiously.

"Peregrine." The brown-furred rat stretched in place. "When I left the Syndicate, I needed transport. Didn't know where I was going. Had some dangerous elements on my tail. He took a chance on me." She took a breath before adding, "I worked aboard his ship for a few weeks, and then he dropped me off on a densely-populated colony. I disappeared into the crowd."

"He kicked you off?"

"No. I left."

"Why didn't you stay? I mean, if you liked him ... "

The rat hesitated for a moment.

Herkimer tilted his head, big ears cast in half-shadows like crescent moons.

"It's hard to be a tough cookie, mouse, when you're round someone who makes you crumble."

"That's sweet ... I think?" the mouse replied, blinking. "But you don't want romance." From what he'd heard, anyway. "Is he an exception? If you like him ... "

"I never admitted to that!"

"Well, you didn't deny it, either."

The rat sighed, fussing with her arm-fur. "I'm quite fond of Perry, yes. But I'm not mate-ship material, and ... "

" ... he only wants a mate-ship?"

"Not necessarily. He's not a stereotypical googly-eyed mouse, Herkimer. No offense."

"None taken ... " The lieutenant's whiskers twitched, though.

That was part of Peregrine's appeal. He had that mousey body, those delectable mousey looks. But with a worldly edge befitting a rat. It was a perfect combination. She fought a smirk. "He'll dip his wick at the flick of a tail." Not her tail, though. Not yet. For all their flirting, they'd never consummated. Which was why she was so nervous at his arrival. The sexual tension was unbearable. Surely, they couldn't pick up where they left off? Not after she'd left him. And she still considered herself a risky prospect. I have enemies. If they found out I was attached to him ...

"Oh. Well ... takes all kinds, I guess." Herkimer cleared his throat, eventually. "I mean, not that I'm against 'dipping wicks.' In theory. But I need some kind of formality to it. My species is normally pretty emotional."

"Well, Perry's lived his life in the UT. This place beats your emotions down. You learn pretty quickly you have to compromise to stay alive. It can be hell. You'll take any pleasure you can get ... "

"Sounds like you're two very compatible rodents," he said diplomatically. "I guess I'm still not seeing what the problem is ... "

Petra's tail snaked about, thicker than the mouse's. And with more strands of fur on it. "I've spent my whole life working my way up the ladder, bein' beholden to furs an' organizations. I did things ... bad things," she elaborated, "to appease them. To keep from goin' back to the bottom. I was in the Syndicate, right? It's like a black market deal, headed by rogue bats. They 'acquire' things that you can't acquire. For a price. And if you gain knowledge of their inner circle, which I did, they don't let you leave."

"But you left," the mouse said, quietly. He blinked in confusion. "How? Did you ... " Did she kill someone? More than one? He swallowed. " ... well, I shouldn't pry."

"No. You shouldn't." Petra clamped her jaw shut, a dark look in her eyes. "Bottom line is that Peregrine, philandering aside, is still an upstanding rodent. I'm not. He doesn't know the half o' my history. I got a rough an' tumble reputation, and if it rubbed off on him? It would hurt his business."

Herkimer shook his head. "Another excuse ... "

"I gotta keep a low profile, mousey. That's the bottom line. No one knows about this stupid-ass station. It's spooked, gutted ... I'm safe here. The Syndicate, even if they found me, wouldn't mess with me now, cause I'm workin' for the High Command. And the High Command could send a squadron over the border and demolish them if they wanted. Hell, they're friends with their own rogue bats, an' they beat the wasps. They can handle some glorified pirates."

The mouse nodded, beginning to understand. "But if you mated Peregrine and lived on his freighter, they'd have no qualms about coming after you. And, by extension, him. They'd destroy Reviere and her crew just to punish you."

No response.

"Right?"

"I don't even have to mate him or live on Reverie," she whispered tiredly. "The Syndicate would only have to know I'd gotten intimate with him. No matter where I lived or what I was doing. They'd just have to know. They're telepaths." She took a deep, shaky breath. "Then, yes, they'd destroy the ship. Kill him. Then probably leave me some cryptic message about it." She knew how they operated. She'd seen them do this to other furs before. "When I was ... there was a rat who left, another rat. He was nice fur. Dense, though. One of those 'lackey' types. He fled without planning ahead. Went into hiding, but he didn't go far enough away. Only to some nearby moon. And then he got some-fur pregnant."

Herkimer listened, intently.

"As soon as they met with a doctor, their medical records were uploaded into a larger system. The Syndicate's computers automatically picked it up. They tracked them down within a day. They stabbed her. Right through the belly. She bled to death. Her and the baby. They left him alone, though. Later, he killed himself from the guilt."

"Oh, my god ... "

"That's how the Syndicate works. They value loyalty above all else. Cross 'em, and they'll kill you directly if you have no attachments. A clean break. But if you do? They go after those attachments. They make you feel so badly that you end up punishing yourself." The rat's shoulders slumped. "I like Perry. But that's not enough to endanger him. I can't."

"Can't or won't?"

"What would you do in my fur?" Petra countered.

Herkimer sighed, admitted, "Probably make the safer decision."

"Right."

"I'm just playing devil's advocate ... "

"It doesn't matter that the Syndicate is a week's journey from here. Their reach is wide. They have 'plants' on random pirate ships. If Reverie ran into one of them, and they did a scan of Perry's mind, and they somehow found out he knew me?" She shook her head, going over all the possible scenarios. "I don't want his blood on my paws ... "

"What are the chances of that, though? Did you tell him this?"

"No ... " The rat rubbed her neck. "If I did, he'd just say 'to hell with it.' He loves to live in the moment." She did, too, really. Which made this a very hard stance to maintain.

"So, you're sacrificing your own happiness and pleasure with Peregrine to protect him ... and he doesn't even know? Petra ... "

"Mousey ... "

"What?"

"Shut up," she muttered.

Herkimer nodded weakly, ears burning from the rebuke. "Sorry ... "

The rat sighed. "No, I am. You don't deserve to be snapped at ... "

"It's fine. I was badgering, and mouses shouldn't be badgers," he insisted meekly.

The rat gave a light smile at his cheesy reply. The smile left her muzzle, though, as she looked at his neck. She pointed with a weathered paw. "Scrape yourself again?"

"What?" He felt at his pelt. A tiny stretch of fur was missing. Claw-marks. "Um ... I, uh ... "

"She's a bitch, Herkimer."

"I don't ... "

"Advent is. And, yes, you do know. You're only with her cause you're sweet and lonely, an' she's a manipulator, and ... really, just call it off. She's abusing you. What more do you need?"

"But she wants me ... "

"So?"

The mouse didn't respond.

"Surely, you've been 'wanted' before?"

"Not really ... " He looked down. "I'm too shy."

"Some females like that."

"Not enough," Herkimer mumbled, regretfully.

"Well, shyness is appealing to a point. As long as there's a backbone somewhere beneath it. You just gotta find yours."

The mouse fidgeted with his ropy tail. Opening his muzzle. Then shutting it. Then opening it again. Before he could reply, though, his ears began to swivel. He looked aside, nodding at the far end of the corridor. "They're here," he said. Graham and Annika.

And, indeed, they were.

"Good morning, you two," Graham said, looking quite refreshed, bobtail flickering brightly.

Annika, hopping a step or two behind, looked beautiful as always. And smelled of some sweet perfume. Or shampoo. They'd obviously spent the night together. They were practically glowing.

"Sir. Ma'am," Petra replied, a little sarcastically. "Sleep well?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," Annika said.

Graham added, "No need to be so formal, Petra. You know that. At ease. You, too, Herkimer. Now, shall we greet our visitors?"

Petra just nodded and stepped forward to mess with a control panel. There was a triple-beep, and the docking hatch rolled aside into the bulkhead with a 'klunk, ker-KLUNK!'

After a few moments, two furs emerged.

The first was a mix-furred mouse. Brown and grey together. Like steel speckled with patches of rust. He looked to Petra first, eyes shining.

She looked back, standing stiffly and giving a brief nod.

Clearly a professional, the freighter mouse looked to Graham. "Commander. Thank you for the invite. I hear you'd like to do business with us?"

"Via the High Command, yes," the snow rabbit replied, ears twiddling tall. "I take it you are open to such a venture?"

"That's why I'm here. It would be a prestigious association in these parts," the mouse said, nodding. "And I'm sure the High Command would make it worth my while." He paused. "I'm Captain Peregrine. And this is my first officer, Commander Talkeetna." He gestured behind him, and a red squirrel emerged. Rich, earthy pelt, like a freshly fallen autumn leaf. Her angular ears had tufts of fur on them, and her tail was so bushy and glorious ...

Herkimer's eyes widened. He held his breath. Oh, my.

"Pleased to meet you," Talkeetna said, nodding to everyone. And then, seeing Herkimer's expression, she smiled. A big, warm smile, too. Like it came from a star. She appreciated flattery and attention, especially when it was sincere. "Hello, there."

"That's Herkimer," Petra said, immediately sensing a the mutual interest and trying to push it. Anything to get him away from Advent.

Talkeetna nodded, approvingly. "Distinct name."

"Uh, thanks. Yours, too," Herkimer said quickly. His throat was dry. He felt a surge of heat run through his body, and he looked away. He'd only felt this way once or twice before. It always caught him off-guard. Was there a term for it?

The squirrel giggled softly.

"And this is Annika, our High Command ambassador," Graham said, interrupting the flirt-fest by introducing his partner.

"A pleasure," Peregrine said with a nod. He reached out to squeeze the ambassador's dainty paw. "We don't get many snow rabbits in the UT. Too much anarchy for their ordered personalities, I guess."

"I hope we will be to your liking," Annika replied with a bow.

"You already are," the mouse assured, charmingly.

Graham's bobtail flickered. So much for stemming the flirting!

"Well, if we're done with the round-robin introductions," Petra said, impatiently, "I think it's been a long trip for Reverie."

"Yes," Graham agreed. "We have some guest quarters set up for you and your crew, Captain. And Seward claims he'll have one, maybe two holo-suites up by the end of the day, as well."

"Really?" Peregrine perked. "I may make use of that. Been years since I've been in a proper one ... out here in the UT, such technology is for the privileged. You're quite generous."

"The High Command prides itself on being egalitarian," Annika said, ever the mouthpiece for democracy.

"It's part of our mission," Graham declared. "To establish a civilized outpost on the frontier, build a proper community."

"And be a sacrificial warning-post against future deep space wasp and human incursions into High Command territory," Petra added, darkly.

Graham shot her a look. Sheila was bad enough. He didn't need his first officer delivering potshots in public. Even if they had basis in truth.

Peregrine nodded. "Well, you'll have a rough go of it. Out here, it's every-fur for themselves. Has been for centuries. Individual worlds have their own governments, of course. But most are riddled with political strife. And there's no over-arcing authority like the High Command or the Federation to link us all together."

"I wonder why that is?" Annika said.

"Who knows? I just live here. I'm not an expert on our political history. It's jumbled and hard to piece together, and it's all written by the victors, anyway." He said that last part with a hint of bitterness.

"As a diplomat, though, I believe that knowing one's past is imperative to mutual understanding. Perhaps I can read over any historical records you might have? Even if they are fractured?"

"Sure thing. Our library is rather crude, though."

Annika tilted her head, unsure if he was referring to the technological capacity or the actual content.

"How have you survived so long with no affiliations to anyone?" Herkimer asked. "You're an independent freighter?"

"Indeed. Reverie is small, but we carry weapons meant for bigger ships. And I have a savvy crew. That's not to say we haven't had some close shaves ... "

"Perhaps we can discuss this further over lunch?" Graham suggested. "In a few hours? I'm very interested to know more about your missions."

"I wouldn't call them 'missions.' More like jobs."

"Still. There's much to discuss. Including our need for supplies ... which Petra tells me you can obtain?" the snow rabbit mentioned, hopefully.

"She put in a good word for me, did she?" the mouse teased, looking to the rat. She was rugged, scrappy. Had a wickedly funny sense of humor. Maybe she wasn't traditionally beautiful, but he still lusted for her. Wanted to slide his paws through that fussy pelt ...

She looked back. Their eyes lingered together.

"Recommended you whole-heartedly," Annika confirmed, catching the eye contact between the two. Did they have a history together?

"That's good to hear ... " There was a wistful tone in the mouse's voice.

"Petra, perhaps you'd like to give Captain Peregrine a tour? If he's going to be partnering with us and using Redwing as a base, he might as well get to know the place." Before she could object, Graham added, "Everyone meet in the ward room at 1200 hours. We'll eat lunch and discuss the rest of our business there."

The rat twitched. She'd been looking forward to seeing Peregrine, yes, and impressing him. But to be alone with him? In the dark, quiet corners of the station? Was that really wise? If they couldn't control themselves, if they slipped ... dammit, this was stupid. You can't live in paranoia, Petra. But I can't be irresponsible, either, can I? "This way, Captain ... "

The mix-furred mouse raised a brow in amusement. She rarely called him by rank. She wasn't a prim and proper rat. Maybe that had changed? He followed her, an eagerness in his step, long, ropy tail trailing.

"Oh, and Herkimer?" Graham said.

"What? I wasn't ... yes?" He looked up, clearly flustered. From the obvious attraction between Peregrine and Petra, to the commander and Annika being all attached at the hip over there, and then Talkeetna being a veritable smoke show? Well, he was quite distracted.

"You give Commander Talkeetna a tour, as well. You've been on the station longer than most of us. You'll know the interesting nooks and crannies."

"Sir ... Graham ... " Advent won't like this ... that was his first thought. His second was, 'So, what?' If you love her, you shouldn't fear her. If you do, something's wrong.

"You don't bite, I trust?" The snow rabbit looked to the red squirrel.

Talkeetna didn't reply to that. Just went 'mm' and smirked, luxurious tail swishing left to right and back again.

Herkimer gulped.

"See. You have nothing to worry about," Graham told the mouse with restrained amusement. "And, Commander," he told the squirrel, "feel free to tell the rest of your crew to do some exploring. Or help us out if they'd like? We could use some extra paws. Consider it a trade-off for using our holo-suites, today."

Herkimer raised his paw. "Uh, Commander ... Graham, I mean," he clarified, seeing as there were two commanders present, "Where are you ... you're not leaving, too, are you? Aren't you coming with us?" Please? I'm too shy to be alone with that squirrel ...

"Annika and I will head back to Ops. Seward says it will be fully operational within the hour. The Promenade by tomorrow. Though 'fully operational' in our circumstance means 'merely functional'," he added for Talkeetna, with one of those light snow rabbit smiles. "A lot of the circuitry needs replaced."

"I understand. I've worked with subpar equipment before. Reverie herself is a patchwork." She looked around. "But I'm impressed by what I've seen of Redwing so far. It's big. Sturdy. And we need a safe haven in these parts. So, I'm glad someone's trying to fashion one. It's about time."

"Indeed." Graham nodded and turned, brushing Annika's hip with his paw as he moved past her. "Come, dear."

The ambassador nodded and sultrily followed.

Herkimer blew out a breath as he watched them go. Goodness, those two had become regular snuggle-bunnies, hadn't they? It was almost comical. Not that he would ever say that to their faces. Also, he'd heard that snow rabbits didn't like to be called 'bunnies.' Not outside intimate settings, anyway.

"So," Talkeetna said, clasping her paws behind her back, swaying her hips back and forth. This made her bushy tail bob about.

"Yes?" the grey-furred mouse asked, eyes widening.

"A tour?"

"Um ... yeah? Oh. Well. Like, uh ... see, I don't even know where to start. I've never given an official tour before. I've only been on a third of the decks, myself. Even though I've been here for a few weeks. This place is so big," he rambled, looking around nervously.

"Then I suppose it'll be an adventure."

The mouse took a deep breath. But no words came out.

"You look like you're expecting something ... "

"Me?" He twitched.

"Predator problems?"

"How'd you ... " A blink.

"I'm a rodent, too, you know. And a keen observer." She nodded to his nicks and scratches.

"Well, actually ... " Shut up, Herkimer. You shouldn't say anything! "There's a feline on the station ... "

"Ah. Cats. Yeah." There was an immediate disdain in her voice. Like a cold front had come through. "I've been around a few, myself. They can be hard to read."

"If you mean they have mood swings, I'd agree," he muttered.

"They never really come out and say what they mean. They like to play games with you." Twisted games, sometimes.

He tilted his head, making eye contact.

"The UT is full of characters puffing themselves up, making themselves out to be tougher than they really are. It's hard to be prey out here. I've had some run-ins ... " A feline had raped her, in fact. Years ago. It wasn't something she talked about. She was still ashamed of it. "But I do my best. Tried to get my own ship at one point, but that didn't work out. Had to settle for joining a freighter crew, but most were predator-heavy. I was pretty much homeless when Peregrine picked me up. He's a godsend."

"He seems like a very nice mouse."

"Well, mouses often are ... " There was that sunny smile, again, the squirrel's bitterness put aside.

"So, there are no predators aboard Reverie?"

"There's a few. Oh, I don't hate all predators. I don't want you to think that. I mean, a lot of prey can be bastards, themselves, right?" she admitted. "But there's a definite tension between them and us. Predators and prey. Stems from millions of years of primal instinct. It'll always be that way." Talkeetna padded closer to the mouse. "I doubt we'll ever be fully at peace."

"Probably not." Herkimer swallowed, looking deeply into her eyes. They were green. Like emeralds. "But not all ... not all primal instincts are bad."

"Mm. This is quite true," the squirrel drawled, knowingly.

He squeaked.

She chittered with mirth. Adorable! Shy, a bit fragile, but ... well, that was endearing in these parts, wasn't it? Most furs around here were hardened as hell. It was refreshing to find such genuine innocence. She only hoped it wouldn't be corrupted by anyone.

"Well, since Petra went that way," Herkimer eventually said, pointing, "we should probably definitely go the opposite. I, uh, don't wanna interrupt them."

"Why's that? Oh!" The squirrel nodded, giggling. "You think they're gonna 'tour' each other, huh?" she asked. "You might be right. Definitely some unresolved tension, there. I don't get why they didn't pursue it ... "

"You never tried to get with him, yourself? The Captain, I mean?"

"No." She shook her head. "Would've been a conflict of interest on a ship as small as ours. The captain and first officer together? Would've made the crew uncomfortable. Oh, I'm sure it happens on lots of ships, but ... he's just not my type, anyway. And he pines for the rat."

"Why?"

"Why isn't he my type? Or why does he pine for Petra?" She shrugged. "The heart wants what it wants," was her answer to both.

"Yeah ... " The mouse thought about Advent, again. Did his heart really want her? Or did it just want to want her? There was a difference between being in love and wanting to be in love. "I know where we can go. It'll lead us to the main power core. It's pretty impressive."

"A big throbbing cylinder of energy? I'm sure it is," Talkeetna teased with a wink.

The mouse blushed in the ears. I walked right into that one ...

"Let me go tell the rest of the crew they can board the station. I'll be back in a minute. Don't go anywhere," she insisted before scampering back through the airlock. Herkimer sighed deeply. And then jumped nearly a foot (or a few inches, at least) when his comm-badge chirruped. He hesitated. Then tapped it. "Herkimer?" he went, phrasing his name as a question.

"Herky. Where are ya?" It was Advent.

"Um. Docking ring." The computer could've told her that. She was just playing coy ...

"You didn't tell me you were gonna be over there."

"Well, I did." Only you weren't listening, he added silently. "I'm entertaining some guests from Reverie."

"Oh?" she went, her voice hitching. He knew that sound. Suspicion.

"Commander's orders," he added.

"Mm. Well. I'm just doing some clean up and repair-work and all that boring stuff. I wanna slip away in a bit. Thought you'd like to meet me."

"I'm kinda busy. Maybe, uh, at lunchtime?"

"Mm. Don't think I can hold out that long," she said.

"Well, I gotta follow orders."

"Or what? Graham will kick you off the station? You'll just get a slap on the wrist, if anything. For a snow rabbit, he's a pushover. There are tougher representatives of his species. But they're all commanding their own starships now that the war's over. Why do you think he's here and not in charge of some important heavy cruiser in his own space? Cause he's second-rate." There had to be some 'dirt' behind his being assigned here. She wondered if she could dig it up.

Herkimer frowned. "You shouldn't say things like that about the Commander. He's nice."

"Nice doesn't get you far in life, mousey. You gotta learn that."

"You're being cynical again," he told her.

"Well, I want my mouse," she explained, crankily. "Herky, come on. It'll only take fifteen minutes."

"Advent, I can't," he said. "I take my duties seriously."

"You need to relax."

"Yeah ... " It was kinda hard to do that when she played so rough with him. Maybe she didn't mean it, but she sometimes hurt him during sex. She was stronger than him, and her claws and teeth were much sharper ...

"So, how 'bout it?"

"Later," Herkimer insisted. Hadn't he explained this five or six times, now?

The jaguar huffed over the comm. "Fine. Lunch, then. Our quarters."

"Well, actually ... " He'd almost forgotten. " ... there's a big meeting in the ward room at lunchtime. Between us and the Reverie's senior officers. We're gonna discuss what supplies they can acquire for us."

"Ugh. Meetings! I fucking hate those."

He sighed, craning his neck. She was never lacking for a strong opinion. "Then don't go."

"No, I gotta keep an eye on you."

"Why?"

"Cause there might be a pretty female from the Reverie crew. And you're too cute. Might get pilfered from me."

He bit his lower lip.

"And we wouldn't want that, would we?"

"Look, uh, Advent, I gotta go."

"Herky."

"What?"

"Behave," she said, cutting the channel.

The mouse rubbed at his cheeks and whiskers with his paws. He was so eager to please, and she was so hard to please. This was impossible. What did I get myself into? Why does the thought of leaving her make me feel guilty? I guess I don't like to disappoint anyone. And how can I hold her flaws against her when I'm far from perfect, myself? I'm so confused!

Talkeetna padded back into view. "Ready?" she asked.

"Yes," the distracted mouse whispered. "Are you?"

"Mm-hmm." She smiled at him.

He melted a little inside.

"By all means," the squirrel insisted, "lead the way ... "

"These are the guest quarters, such as they are." The rat nodded down the corridor, padding a ways before opening a set of doors. She waved a paw inside. "All unoccupied. Pretty sparse at the moment. But your crew is welcome to use 'em. I know how small the quarters are aboard Reverie." They were more like closets than rooms.

"Yeah, I'm used to roughing it," Peregrine replied, peeking his nose inside. Sniffing the air. His whiskers twitched. "These will do nicely. They have actual beds?"

"Yes ... "

"Haven't been in one in a while." On Reverie, they just had flip-out cots. They folded up into the wall when you weren't using them.

"I have a hard time believin' that," Petra said, slyly. She was beginning to feel at ease now that the initial tension of meeting him again had worn off. Their old chemistry was coming back.

"Oh?"

"I bet you've stuck yourself in a dozen females since we last met," she teased.

"You'd be off."

"Two dozen?"

"Seven, if you must know," he supplied, casually.

"You fuck 'em at ports of call, right?"

"Well, most of my crew is mated. And there's no spark between me and Talkeetna. It's the only way ... other than abstinence, which I have little tolerance for." He gave her a curious, sparkly-eyed look. "Are you teasing me or interrogating me?"

"Maybe both." She paused before asking, "And none o' your dalliances made you forget me?"

"Course not ... "

"Not even a little?"

Peregrine hesitated. Then shrugged. "There was this chipmunk with a really cute ass," he remembered. "About four months ago, on an asteroid depot. Waitress at a bar there. She got me in after hours. We had a bit to drink." He stretched a bit. "I did her doggystyle in a booth ... "

The rat shook her head at the mouse's nerve, clucking her tongue mockingly. "You can't handle your alcohol."

"A curse of my species. Fast metabolisms."

"Mm."

"What about you?"

"I prefer hard liquor to wine," the rat insisted.

"That's not what I meant," he replied with a smile. "You can't tell me you've been celibate for the past year."

"Hell, no."

"Heh." He took in a deep breath, catching a bit of her scent. So familiar. It was so good to see her again. "It turns you on to hear about my experiences, doesn't it?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Not that I mind. It turns me on telling you," the mouse confessed. "When you were part of my crew, you'd ask ... but you didn't seem to enjoy sharing your own stories as much. It made you nervous. For someone whose personality hinges on being 'no-nonsense,' you're awfully tight with information." Opinions were a different matter. She never hesitated sharing those.

"It's better if I keep details of my past to myself."

"Because you're not proud of it?"

"It's complicated."

"I know someone's after you, Petra. I'm not dumb," he insisted. "Pirates, I take it? Maybe even the Syndicate?"

The rat didn't respond.

"I wondered, at first, if you left because of me. Something I did? Talkeetna told me to brush it off. I couldn't, though. It took me a few weeks. I know we never consummated anything, but I still ... I was becoming very attached to you. I would've mated myself to you eventually ... "

"I know. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings."

"I'm a native of the UT. I adapt pretty quickly. I got over it." Mostly. "But I know you love me, too," Peregrine insisted, passionately. "Feel free to refute that."

She didn't.

"I respect you enough to give you your secrets. We don't have to talk at all. But we're here, now, together again, and I'll be damned if I'm going to waste the opportunity ... "

"Meaning?"

"Breed with me. I want to have had you at least once in my life ... " A vulnerable smile. He guard was clearly down, now. He trusted her that much. "And, hey, Reverie will be using Redwing as a base, now. Maybe it can become semi-regular. Can just be a fling, maybe. Or more ... " He drew a breath and then released it as a soft sigh. "Up to you." He'd clearly made up his mind already. But, being the fur he was, he would abide by her decision. "How often do you get a second chance?"

It was such a passionate, confident plea. She softened visibly. "Perry ... "

"Yes?"

She looked into his eyes. They were so lively and passionate, glistening with genuine warmth. So very hard to resist. "If anything's gonna happen, maybe it should wait 'til tonight. After the meeting in the ward room ... " When they weren't as rushed. It would also give her more time to think it over. She knew what her heart wanted. Her body, too. But her mind was still in conflict.

He tilted his head. Was she stalling? He'd never known her to be nervous. But it was actually kind of sweet. "I've waited this long," he answered quietly. "I think I can control myself for a few more hours."

The rat nodded.

"You're so professional, now," he whispered. "It's a new side of you."

"I'm a first officer. A liaison between the High Command and the UT. Best job I ever had. I have to maintain some level of discipline to keep it."

"Well, it suits you."

"Does it?"

"You were a little reckless back on Reverie. I was always afraid you'd hurt yourself. Get into yourself into trouble." That was part of her charm, of course. And he didn't want that to go away. But everyone had to settle down eventually, right?

"I've gotten myself into plenty. Unfortunately, I'm still trying to get out of it."

"I wish you would trust me," the mouse said.

"I do."

"Completely. Without hesitation."

Her ears lowered. Then rose back up.

He watched this and sighed. "I can protect myself. I'm not your typical 'flower-holding' church mouse."

"I know. I like that about you ... " Not that 'stereotypical' mouses didn't have their benefits, but she'd always gone for diamonds in the rough.

"Petra." With short, ragged breaths, Peregrine padded closer to the rat, standing inches from her. Their whiskers nearly touched. And he fought the urge to loop his tail around hers. "I think I may have been lying when I said I could control myself ... "

She was having a hard go of it, herself. But she maintained her composure. She wasn't ready. "I'll make it worth your while if you do. Tonight. I'll book the holo-suite. We can go anywhere you wish."

"I think I have just the place ... "

Petra cleared her throat. By getting intimate with him, she'd be marking him for life. If he ever ran into a Syndicate bat, well ... but like he said: he could protect himself. Or, at least, he wanted the chance to do so. He didn't want softballs from her. Maybe he'd strike out. But at least it would be his decision.

The mouse stood up on the tips of his bare foot-paws. The rat was a few inches taller. He whispered something into her ear and moved off, out the door, into the corridor. Glancing over his shoulder, he asked, "Coming?"

"I'm sure I will be," she replied, seductively, walking past him and toward the nearest lift. True happiness had eluded her for a long time. Maybe she could have it, now? Maybe things could change? Oh, this was going to be a long day. And chances were, an even longer night ...